


I've Grown Tired Of This Body

by ConsiderableColors



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Body Dysphoria, Canonical Character Death, Dissociation, Eating Disorders, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, Good Sibling Luther Hargreeves, Honestly not really any spoilers for season two, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Luther Hargreeves Needs A Hug, No Incest, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Post-Season/Series 02, Sad Luther Hargreeves, Self-Harm, Some AU where that last scene didn't happen and they're all happy, The Fact That I Need To Tag That-, Trauma, Vomiting, Y'all test me, dysmorphia, okay some comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:21:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26057140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConsiderableColors/pseuds/ConsiderableColors
Summary: "He goes upstairs and sits on his bed. He feels distant, today. He misses the moon. He misses writing. He can't write much, these days.He should put on a record. That cheers him up. He should put on a record, he thinks again, but his body makes no move to."AKA, a normal day in the life of Luther Hargreeves, but he's struggling and none of his siblings seem to have noticed.Title taken from Body by Mother Mother.
Relationships: Luther Hargreeves & Everyone
Comments: 36
Kudos: 132





	I've Grown Tired Of This Body

**Author's Note:**

> So uh. This is how I'm introducing myself to the tua fandom huh?
> 
> *gets on my soapbox* The amount of trauma this man has- the fact that it's canon he has self-harmed and had suicidal thoughts- the hints towards an eating disorder in this season- and THERE AREN'T A MILLION FICS ABOUT THIS? Clownery. Absolute clownery. 
> 
> But anyways this is really dark and written in a fucked up way on purpose so please don't read if you're not in a good place mentally ❤ love y'all

Luther starts the morning the way he usually does: throwing up in the shower. 

This isn't at all unusual. 

He will throw up in the morning, and then, just after dinner and a bit before bed, he will throw up again. 

He's used to it.

That doesn't mean he likes it.

The problem is, Luther is completely disgusted with his body. (And who wouldn't be, he thinks to himself.) He's inhuman. Less than. And he's constantly hyperaware of it.

So, he covers himself up in the biggest, fuzziest coat he can find, and sometimes he's able to convince himself that the hair he feels all over his body is just the wool lining his clothing. 

But the worst of it comes during showers. There's no escape. No way of tricking his mind. It's just him, body on full display, forced to kneed body wash into every clump of- of FUR on his body. 

When the change had first happened, Luther thought he could just skip showering for a couple days. 

He finds out he can't. 

Between the heavy, heavy hair, and how much his training works up a sweat, Luther is quick to learn that if he doesn't shower twice a day- at LEAST- he reeks. 

Reluctantly, he showers. Every time, he desperately tries to hold back the gags, but it all feels wrong. His body doesn't feel like his own anymore. So, he throws up in the shower, where the water downs out the sound and ensures no one hears.

The only trouble is, for whatever reason, today he feels particularly wrong. His skin feels like it's buzzing, and once he's out of the shower, he stands for two seconds before rushing to open the toilet.

After a moment, he hears Vanya speak hesitantly.

"Luther? You alright?"

He swallows back acid, and lets out a heavy breath.

"Fine. My breakfast just didn't sit right."

"Oh. Okay." There's a moment of silence, but he doesn't hear her walk away. He waits, but she doesn't continue.

Luther grips the toilet tighter, reminding himself not to snap at her. This isn't her fault, and he doesn't need to take his anger out on her.

"Do you, uh- did you need something? Or...?"

"Oh!" He can practically hear her perk up. "Just, we were going to watch a movie in a few minutes. Do you want us to wait for you?"

No. He doesn't want to sit with them, distracting them from a fun time with his disgusting, inhuman-

"Yeah, sure. Be there in a few." 

She walks away, and he runs a hand down his face. Fuck. Here goes nothing.

Luther stands up, holding a hand to his stomach in an attempt to settle it. 

He lumbers downstairs after a few moments, and hides a wince. The movie's already begun. They didn't even wait for him. 

He sighs, sitting at the end of the couch, next to Klaus, perched on the arm with a bowl of popcorn. He reaches over and grabs the bowl.

Klaus squawks in indignation. "Rude!"

"You're going to break the couch."

"Says you."

"Ass."

"Slut. Give me my popcorn!"

Luther hands the bowl back after scooping out a handful.

Allison rolls her eyes. "It's so sweet the way this family shows how much we care."

"Can you idiots shut up for two seconds?!"

"No one else is watching this, Five."

"It's not my fault you only watch the Hollywood-equivalent of the shit crust inside your underwear."

"I know you did NOT just come for Birds of Prey like that, Five-"

"How you could even watch that crap-"

"It is an artistic-"

Luther blocks the chatter out, reaching into Klaus' bowl for another piece.

"This is why you got sick this morning, Número Uno. Save some for the family, Jesus-"

His fist clenches at the comment. "Shut up, Klaus."

"If the shoe fits..."

"FUCKING-"

"Just turn the captions on, Five."

"Oh, but when I wanted captions..."

Save some for the family

Jesus

Save some for the family

This is why you got sick

Says you

Luther's stomach growls. Reginald doesn't glance up. "Who was that?" 

"Sorry, Dad."

"You've just eaten."

"I..."

"Your metabolism, I suspect. I'll see about increasing your meals. Though I expect more control from you, Number One. I do not have the time to feed you twelve servings of everything."

"Yes, sir."

"God, Five, how do you understand this..."

"It isn't hard if you would actually pay attention."

"When's it my pick again?"

"You JUST picked, Diego."

"And it was a huge disaster."

Huge disaster

Huge disaster

Save some for the family

Twelve servings of

Jesus

Luther shakes his head.

The movie is over.

His siblings are asleep.

The popcorn bowl is half empty.

Or half-full.

Twelve servings of everything

Luther takes the bowl into the kitchen and puts another popcorn bag in the microwave to pour on top of what's left.

He puts on Lost In Space and eats.

His stomach protests. He ignores it.

Klaus was teasing, of course. Luther doesn't mind. They all tease each other. A bit of bite, but that's just how the Hargreeves are. They're working on it.

He pulls blankets onto all of them, and turns off the light. Let them rest.

He goes upstairs and sits on his bed. He feels distant, today. He misses the moon. He misses writing. He can't write much, these days. 

He should put on a record. That cheers him up. He should put on a record.

He should put on a record.

He should put on a record, he thinks again, but his body makes no move to. He moves his hand to push himself up, but it's not his hand.

It's not his hand.

He wriggles each finger.

He's not wearing his gloves.

He doesn't know whose hand is waving in front of him.

He should put on a record. 

He shakes his head, and stands-

And smacks right into Allison.

He blinks.

"Woah, easy. You alright?"

Luther looks at her a moment. 

"Hello? Earth to Luther?" She smiles softly. "Still on the moon, there?"

He chuckles along with her, feeling very confused. 

"Thank you for earlier, by the way. With the blankets and stuff. I got the sweetest picture of Five, all curled up- He'll kill me if he ever sees it, of course, but I sent it to Vanya just in case."

"What time is it?"

"Like 2, why?" 

2\. That's... That's not right.

It was just 11. Right?

He missed lunch, then. 

Save some for the family

Twelve servings

He's fine. He'll wait until dinner. 

Allison says something he doesn't hear. He nods. She walks away. 

He's so, so tired.

His hands still aren't his.

He pulls off his shirt, and stares at his chest. Now his chest isn't his, either. 

He turns to the mirror.

His face... That's not his face.

Weird. 

He looks harder.

He shakes his head.

He should put on a record. 

He pulls out a Billy Joel album and plays it. The clock tells him it's almost 4. 

Must be broken. He'll check it later.

Diego yells, "Turn it down!"

He doesn't.

A groan. "Luther, I swear to God-" 

He turns it up louder. He... He can't think. He just needs to listen to a record, and he'll be fine. 

A knife comes barreling through the open door and digs itself into the doorframe.

He looks at it. 

He pulls it out and goes to return it to Diego.

He sees his hand holding it.

His knuckles have fur, now. Didn't he just shave them down? 

He grips the knife tighter. 

He spares a glance towards his chest.

He grips the knife tighter.

He cuts. 

He cuts.

He hacks, really.

Same difference, isn't it?

"Weakness, Number One," is what Dad would say.

Dad isn't here.

He misses Dad.

He cuts.

God, he fucking hates Dad.

The record has stopped playing.

"Thank God," Diego growls from far away. 

Luther barely registers it. 

He looks down at his chest. It's a bloody mess. 

It's about time for his second shower of the day, anyway.

He showers with hot water. The cuts BURN. He breathes heavily, and tries not to throw up.

He fails. 

When he gets out, he's still bleeding a bit. Dimly, he realizes these need to be bandaged up. So, he does.

It reminds him of when Ben died.

Luther begged Mom to let him help. It wasn't enough, she tried to tell him, but he wanted to believe he could stop it.

He misses Ben.

It should've been him, he knows, instead of Ben.

He wished it had been.

He wraps the final cut.

He misses Ben.

He's quite jealous of him, really.

He looks at the time. It's a bit after 6. They've already eaten dinner, then. No one seems concerned that he wasn't there.

Luther supposes that's for the best.

He goes downstairs and opens the liquor cabinet. It's Five's, and locked so that Klaus can't get into it. Luther breaks the lock easily. They have plenty more in a junk drawer somewhere. He'll get it in a moment.

He pulls out a bottle of whiskey and drinks it until he feels less nauseous- or more, honestly, he can't tell. 

Five teleports down and sees him. He yells at him. Luther doesn't process a word he says.

It makes him feel like shit, though. He digs through the fridge and finds some shitty microwave-meal and heats it up. He eats two more and tries not to feel disgusting.

He closes his eyes for a moment.

When he opens them, he's in bed. His head is killing him.

Mom is leaned over him, a calm smile on her face.

"Morning, Luther dear. You've missed breakfast."

He's starving.

He's disgusting. 

"Oh."

She frowns. "Sweetheart, are you alright? You don't look well."

'I'm... Fine. Just tired."

"You seem stressed," Mom comments. "Maybe you need a spa day? With your brothers and sisters? I'm sure you could all use it."

Luther chuckles awkwardly. "I uh... I doubt many people would be comfortable with me there."

She frowns a bit at that, before smiling widely. "Well, I think you are absolutely beautiful, sweetheart."

There's a moment of silence before quietly, he starts crying.

Mom puts a hand on his shoulder, and he heaves a sob-

And she's gone.

He looks at the clock. 

Almost 10. 

Shit. He needs to shower.

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr is considerablecolors if you'd like to stop by!


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